


"No, no, it's my treat."

by LaLopez1981



Series: 100 Ways to Say I Love You [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst, Brodinsons, Dashingfrost - Freeform, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Lots of Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Prompt #3, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 09:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLopez1981/pseuds/LaLopez1981
Summary: Loki's being a good brother and picking up Thor from work. He's hoping not to run into his ex, but Thor's running late and luck is not on Loki's side.





	"No, no, it's my treat."

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo....this is my first time writing DashingFrost, which is a ship I've totally shipped probably as long as WinterFrost. Unfortunately, it came out a lot more angsty than I intended. I think I may have been self-inserting a bit (on Fandral's end) and working through some stuff through the fic. I sorry. :/
> 
> xoxo,   
> La

Loki sat in his car outside the restaurant, squinting his eyes, searching for Thor inside, through the falling rain and spotted windows. He knew the only way he’d see Thor, or that Thor would know he arrived would be if he actually got out of the car and went inside. Thor wasn’t allowed to have his phone on him while he was working, so texting would be pointless. Pouting only a little, Loki exited the car and sprinted to the entrance. Before entering he shook off droplets from his arms and hood. He did another search, but figured Thor must still be in the kitchen, so with a sigh, Loki pushed the hood of his sweater over his head and pulled open the door. He didn't see Thor in the kitchen. Eyes sweeping the restaurant, Loki moved to the end of the diner counter and sat.

Heimdall, the owner of the restaurant, and an old friend of Loki and Thor’s father, wandered over from the register, and slung his ever-present cleaning rag over his shoulder. He grinned at Loki in greeting, and out of habit, poured out a glass of water, setting it down in front of Loki. “Hey, kid. You here to pick up your brother?”

Loki cupped a hand around the water, but made no move to drink it, and nodded. “Do you know if he’s ready yet?”

“I think he just headed into the back to close out, but I’ll go check. You want anything while you wait? Got a few slices of cheesecake left.”

Loki smiled softly. “No, thank you.”

Heimdall nodded and backed into the door leading to the kitchen and the back employees’ area of the restaurant. Needing something to do to keep himself busy, Loki grabbed a menu and absently read over the options for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and the assortment of desserts. He noted some changes to it, here and there, absorbed and distracted enough that he didn’t hear the bells of the door ring as it opened, or the movement beside him.

“Is this seat taken?”

The menu slipped from Loki’s fingers, falling with a light plop to the counter top. Every muscle in his body tensed at the familiar voice and he silently cursed Thor for being late, then cursed himself for coming into the restaurant in the first place. When he answered, his voice was strained, and he practically spoke through his teeth. “There are literally dozens of other places to sit.”

The chair beside him swiveled and was occupied anyway. “I know. But you’re not in the other places.” Gritting his teeth, Loki kept his eyes focused on the coffee pot in his direct gaze, refusing to look anywhere else. “How’ve you been, Loki?”

_ Miserable _ , Loki thought to himself. Lonely. Moody. Crying. A lot of crying. And, occasionally, horny. “Bloody fantastic, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

Taking his eyes from the coffee, but still avoiding looking at the man beside him, Loki sighed. “I’m picking up Thor. Is that all right with you, Fandral?”

“Why? Oh…right.” Fandral removed his coat, hung it over his chair. “His car’s still in the shop. Nice of you to get him.”

Loki made a noncommittal noise, replaced the menu, and moved to stand. He went rigid, unsuccessfully snagging back his arm when Fandral reached for him. He looked pointedly at the hand on his arm until it was removed, but still didn’t look at Fandral directly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…will you sit down, please? I just…I’d just like to know how you are. I haven’t heard…please?”

Loki figured since he was waiting for Thor anyway, he would sit. But he was careful to keep his distance. “Why do you suddenly care?” he murmured.

“It’s not sudden, Loki, but I can see…” Fandral trailed off as the revolving door to the kitchen pushed open.

“Loki, I just have to —” Thor froze, seeing Loki and Fandral together. His free hand, the one not holding open the door, curled into a fist. His eyes, a bright oceanic blue, bounced between the two of them before his face pinched into a frown, a mixture of confusion and concern. He looked back to Loki, searching his face.  Loki shook his head and gave a small, minuscule wave of his hand, signaling for Thor to stand down. Beside him, Fandral lowered his head.  With a nod, Thor visibly relaxed. “I, uh, have to count out my drawer. Then I’ll be done. I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.” He spared Fandral a glance. “If you’d rather wait in the car…”

Loki felt Fandral slump beside him, and grinned softly at Thor. “I’m fine. Go ahead.” Thor gave another nod and disappeared to the back again. Loki’s attention was drawn to the other end of the counter as Heimdall returned to close out the check for a customer. He lowered them quickly when Fandral raised his head.

“You know he hasn’t spoken to me since…well. Since,” he said quietly. "It's made for some awkward moments on our shifts. I guess that's why he asked for a different schedule."

Loki frowned. “Who hasn't spoken to you?”

“Your brother,” he answered with a small chuckle. Rising, Fandral walked around the counter to grab two mugs and the pot of coffee. He filled one to near the brim and the other to just three-quarters full. He added a splash of milk to that one and pushed it toward Loki.

Loki stared at the light-colored drink, unaware Fandral even knew how he took his coffee, and still confused about Thor not speaking to one of his oldest friends. And changing his schedule? Did he do that for Loki? Taking the chance to sneak a peek at Fandral, Loki glanced up, and his lips parted in shock. Fandral had always been handsome; as a boy, as a teenager, and then as a young man. Loki remembered how Fandral used to be described as  _ dashing _ . But this wasn’t the Fandral Loki had fallen for. He looked uncharacteristically unkempt. His blond hair was uncombed and shaggy, his usually trimmed goatee bristly, his cheeks hidden behind what looked like several days’ beard growth, and his clothes were wrinkled, like he'd slept in them. More than once. But the dark circles under his eyes were the most surprising.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not on the clock.”

Loki and Fandral looked to Heimdall as he approached. Fandral didn’t run, but he did move rather quickly back around the counter, sending Heimdall one of those damn charming smiles. He picked up his cup, lifting it in a sort of toast toward Heimdall, and took a sip. “You were busy.”

“Mmhmm.” Heimdall was not amused, and sent such a look to both Loki and Fandral before he turned away to begin wiping down the counter and clearing away the salt and pepper shakers.

Fandral returned to sit beside Loki, who wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, bringing it closer, but unsure if he wanted to drink it. The warmth of the cup felt good against his ice cold fingers. “I didn’t tell him to,” he murmured suddenly.

Fandral sipped at his coffee. “I know you didn’t. He loves you.” 

Loki had to stop himself before he said  _ at least someone does _ . He heard Fandral swallow again, and wished Thor would hurry up.

“Are you okay?” Fandral asked softly. “I mean…I know I hurt you and you probably still hate me. And you have every right to. But, um…we haven’t spoken in awhile, which is weird, so I just wanted to know…are you? Okay?”

Loki’s jaw clenched as his eyes began to fill, and it pissed him off. He was silent, taking a moment to swallow back the tears and the emotions that accompanied them so easily lately. He was angry, he was grieving, he was hurt. He didn’t need Fandral reminding him of it all. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he said almost flippantly before pushing the mug away again and folding one hand over the other on the counter. Beside him, Fandral blew out a long breath. It went quiet between them after that. Though Loki could feel Fandral’s gaze on him, he was still reluctant to look at him. He knew he’d likely fall apart. Silently, he prayed for Thor to walk through that door.

“Loki, I never meant to hurt you.”

He practically snorted. “Of course you didn’t.” Swiveling his chair away from Fandral, Loki got to his feet, and reached into his pocket.

“Why won’t you let me explain myself? I want you to understand —”

“I understand well enough, thank you.” Loki turned his head sharply, but still wouldn’t look Fandral in the eye. “I don’t need you to explain things to me like I’m a child.” He pulled out a small wad of bills and began to count out singles.

Fandral sighed wearily. “That’s not what I meant. What are doing? No, no, it’s my treat.”

Loki went still, meeting Fandral’s eyes for the first time. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Gods, Loki, it’s not pity. I don’t pity you.”

“Then why ask if I‘m okay? You’re just digging the knife in deeper, you know?”

Fandral stared with his mouth open, apparently blindsided by Loki’s comment. “I didn’t — I only asked because I still care, Loki. I didn’t just stop care…” He stopped now, looked away, when his voice broke. Loki blinked, shocked by Fandral’s show of emotion. Shaking his head, Fandral rose and quietly removed a ten dollar bill from his wallet, placing it between the two mugs of coffee. One was half drunk and the other untouched. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. And I will forever regret not showing you that more. And letting my own personal demons get the better of me.”

Loki could only stare at Fandral through slowly filling eyes, afraid if he moved a muscle, or even blinked, he would fall to pieces. Fandral must have read Loki’s reaction differently.  He gave a shake of his head, smiling through his own tears, and shrugged.

“Maybe one day, you’ll find the grace to forgive me. Maybe we can move forward. As friends or whatever you're comfortable with.” His eyes moved somewhere away from Loki’s gaze before he gave a final nod, almost to himself, and turned to leave.

Loki watched him go, unable to move, and didn’t until Thor said his name quietly from behind him. When he turned, Thor held out his open hand. 

“Give me the keys.” Confused, Loki looked at Thor, his hand, then reached into his pocket and set the keys in Thor’s hand. Thor cupped Loki’s hand between his, drawing his attention. “Go,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Loki lifted a brow. “What?”

Thor gave his hand a squeeze and released it, grinning shyly. “Go, Loki. I know how you feel about him.”

Loki inhaled deeply, looking back out the window, and wiped the back of his hand over his face. But he made no move. “No,” he answered in a clearer voice than he, or Thor, expected.

Thor’s brows lowered over his eyes. “No?”

Loki turned back to face Thor. “I can’t go out there and just follow him, Thor. Not now, not like this…” He shrugged his shoulders. “He would just hurt me again. And I would have allowed it. I _do_ love him. But I refuse to give him, or anyone, the power to hurt me like that ever again.” He flipped up his hood, turned on his heel, and headed for the door.

Shocked, Thor stared after Loki. But his chest puffed out a little, kind of proud, as he bid Heimdall good night, and followed his brother.


End file.
